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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29149674">The Life and Death of Abigail Parker</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrgRcnGrl/pseuds/DrgRcnGrl'>DrgRcnGrl</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Transformers (Bay Movies), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Additional Tags to Come, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Autobot/OC - Freeform, F/M, Family, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Kinda complicated, M/M, Mentions of death (not graphic), Mixed Generation Transformers, OOC because what fic isn't at least a little OOC, Slow Burn, Universe! Type fic, What Comes Next?, came to me in a dream, life after death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 09:07:52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,002</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29149674</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrgRcnGrl/pseuds/DrgRcnGrl</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Everybody dies. It's a way of life. But what happens to your soul after you die and leave your body here on Earth? Nobody really knows for sure.</p><p>After Abigail Parker's death, she's given an opportunity of a lifetime (pun intended). She may start anew in another world, one much like her own, but oh so different.</p><p>She didn't quite expect her next steps to be taken in a world of humans, Autobots, and Decepticons. She barely knew what they were.</p><p>Everything was going to change.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Autobots (Transformers)/Original Character(s), Autobots (Transformers)/Original Female Character(s), Jazz &amp; Prowl</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Life and Death of Abigail Parker</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>They say that when you die, you see your life flash before your eyes. In my case, it was shown like a two-hour premier movie with a theater and everything. I even got some popcorn.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At least it felt like a movie theater. I was in a leather seat with arms, no cup holders though. There was a big screen in front of me and everything else is black. I knew in the back of my mind it wasn’t really a movie theater, but acting like it was felt so much better than accepting my death at that moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I was given no introductions. I didn’t even know how I got there, in that seat. All I could see in front of me was that screen, and in big letters it said “The Life and Death of Abigail Parker”.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I watched my birth and all the gory aftermath that came with it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I saw my first steps, heard my first words, all from the point of view of my own baby self.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I could feel my anxiety rise as I saw myself ride a bike with no training wheels for the first time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The first time I drove a car, and the first drive I took by myself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My first kiss. I did wish I didn't have to see that one again, it was enough to experience it once.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In all, my life was uneventful. I had no major trauma, save for a few car accidents (only one caused by me, mind you) and the eventual end of my life. I never married, not because I couldn't find somebody worth while but because I just liked being by myself. Kids weren't in the picture, unless you include my various jaunts working at daycare centers and caring for my nieces and nephews. I loved kids, but I never cared to have my own.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was an uneventful, but rather short life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I watched in third person how I died.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It had been such a beautiful day. It was the beginning of summer, so it was not too hot and not too cold. The sun was shining, the trees surrounding me casting small shadows of shade. I could still smell the spring flowers in the air.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I got into my car for the last time, not even knowing that it would be the last time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I watched myself merge onto the interstate on my way to run some errand that would never end up being done.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I saw myself pull over to the shoulder after witnessing a pretty horrific car crash. I pulled in right behind them, but a safe enough distance away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I saw myself run to the driver’s side of the nearest car to make sure the driver was okay. She was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before the theater-like screen faded to black, I saw myself barely look up at a car driving right at me going at least seventy miles per hour.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you so much for taking the time to read this! I know this chapter is short, but rest assured that each chapter after this will be a more reasonable length. Hope to see you at chapter 2!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The next thing she knew, Abigail was waking up in a strange bed in a strange room</span>
</p><p>
  <span>To be fair, there wasn’t much that was strange about those two things- but they weren’t familiar, and she didn’t remember how she got there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Abigail sat up slowly, looking around the room. It wasn’t anything fancy, but not too shabby either. It reminded her of her basic style when she was in her twenties- clean, bright colors, but almost with a sterile touch. All furnishings of the room were white or white-esque, the dresser, the nightstand, the bed frame-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The nightstand. Sitting on the nightstand in front of the lamp was a book. It looked ancient, like it belonged in the President’s library or something. The book had a faded red leather cover with the writing etched in gold. It was almost illegible.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The New Life of Abigail Parker.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>It seemed to be some sort of biography, and the title was self-explanatory. This was her new life, and all that had happened before was in this book. It would contain her childhood memories, her first moments, her relationships with the people around her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She quickly skipped to the last few pages where it listed her current situation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Apparently, she now worked as the shift lead at a coffee shop near her condo. It was pretty vague who she knew and what her relationship was with those people, but something told her that it would all come to her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Abigail took a deep breath, blinking a few times. The new memories began to cloud her own ones, though not completely taking them over in her mind. It was like she was two people inside one mind. She was lucky her name was the same, but her birthday wasn’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Who celebrates birthdays after twenty-five, anyway?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, shit, I’m going to be late for work!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She had no idea how she knew, but something was telling her that. She had to get ready fast.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was the most mind-boggling thing. She didn’t know in her mind where things were for her to get ready, but her body almost automatically knew anyway. She managed to find clothes that were work-savvy, her makeup, hair tools. As she got ready, she noticed that a few facial features were different than before. It was like she was looking at her Sim-self. Almost right, but something was off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Abigail found her car keys almost out of habit and began the short drive to work. She even figured out where to park. If she didn’t try too hard, it was like she knew just what to do naturally. As if she were on auto-pilot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She tried not to overthink it at all, actually. This was a surreal situation in and of itself. She knew she was in some kind of new world or dimension. So far, everything seemed similar to what she was used to. People spoke the same way, she was still in the United States, there weren’t any major wars on the news that she didn’t already know about. Democrats and Republicans still hated each other. Marijuana was still illegal. Maybe this was a dimension where one extra person was alive that wasn’t alive in her original lifetime or something.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Chai latte extra foam for Anna!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If she began to overthink something, she took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a few seconds. It would come in spurts. She’d slowly realize what she needed to be doing, whose order was whose, how to make it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t the most complicated thing she’d ever done. She did wonder why her new self chose to work at a coffee shop. Maybe it was in that book.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Abs, are you feeling okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The voice registered in her head as Jess. Maybe short for Jessica? All she could think was Jess.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I’m good. Why?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The girl working beside her shrugged, looking her up and down slowly. “You’re acting off today. Slower. Not that I’m judging you or anything! Just making sure everything is alright.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span><em>Genuine</em>. Abigail liked that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jess, I’m fine, I promise. I’m just feeling more overwhelmed than usual,” Abigail assured her. “Just foggy up in here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess smiled at her. “Just checking in!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess, or maybe Jessica, seemed just like the kind of person Abigail would be friends with. She seemed friendly, but not overbearing. Curious, not too outspoken. She definitely had a sense of style- baggy high-waisted jeans, a graphic tee that Abby didn’t recognize, and too many ear piercings to count.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was official. She liked her. Hopefully, they were friends and not just co-workers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wha’s up, Abster?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Abigail turned around quickly, her thoughts interrupted by a new voice. She recognized this voice. She couldn’t tell where- was it old memories, or was it her new ones?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi!” She tried to sound like she knew exactly who she was talking to. She was never the best actress. “What can I get for you, uh…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The name didn’t come to her. Did she know this man?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked vaguely familiar. He was just above average height with dark skin. He wore black sunglasses and some sort of black flat cap. He didn’t feel like a stranger, he didn’t look like a stranger, but nothing was registering.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Who was this guy?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’ tell me you don’ remember me, lil’ lady?” The man looked offended. He didn’t once pull his sunglasses down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, sir, I’m drawing a blank.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was starting to get frustrated. This man obviously knew her- why else would he call her Abster? He knew her name. Why couldn’t she think of his?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man slowly went from looking offended to laughing. “You’re playin’ with me, aren’t ya?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m just feeling a bit not like myself today,” she said carefully. It felt like a bad idea to let it be known that she had just gotten there, that whoever this person was yesterday was no longer her. Even though it was her. It was confusing to think about. It was like entering a movie halfway through.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, then! Let me introduce myself!” The man grinned and held out his hand. “Name’s Jazzy, lil’ lady.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span><em>“Jazz!”</em> Abigail blurted out. She suddenly remembered- it was only bits and pieces, but he was her friend. He never ordered anything, not a single drink or pastry. She couldn’t remember why or even if she was supposed to remember why.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His face lit up. “There ya go! See, you know who I am.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Abigail forced a smile. She didn’t want to be rude, especially not on her first day in this new world, but she couldn’t for the life of her remember her exact relationship with this man. She knew he was her friend. But how did they meet? How did they know each other?</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>This was going to be harder than she thought.</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The awkward exchange between Abigail and the man she knew as Jazz had her up all night reading through the pages of her book. Surely, this book would give her the answers she was looking for. The idea that she could just go on in this new life without knowing her new past was out the window. Some things, she needed to know in order to function in this new world.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Abigail knew that she couldn’t just skip through to the end. That’s not how books worked. In order to fully grasp something, you must start at the beginning. The only problem was how unbelievably thick this book was, how many pages it held, and how little the script inside was. She had made it to age five before she finally looked at the clock. It was well past three in the morning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh, she wanted to skip right to the end, to the days before she got here. Maybe even in the months, maybe even just two years ago. But something told her she had to start from the beginning, no matter how long it took her. At this rate, it would easily be days before she knew all that she needed to know.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She marked her place in the book with a soft sigh. It was an amazing opportunity, a life after death, but it was exhausting to try to learn a whole other lifetime while keeping hold of her own memories from before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She went to bed that night just before four, her head spinning with new knowledge of birthdays, Christmases, and major life events that no doubt changed her position in this world. As she would soon realize, every day before now counted towards who she was today. Or who she should be.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Abigail was lucky she had the next two days off of work.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As soon as she woke, she was back with her nose in the book before her coffee was ready. She was careful not to let crumbs or anything spill on the pages as she scoured over them, sometimes rereading sentences out loud to better remember them. In her old life, she barely touched a book after her twenty-fifth birthday. Everything was online by then, either in type or audio form. She was almost thankful this was in print form. It took away the distraction electronics or social media had.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She ate when she was hungry, drank when she was thirsty, and went to the bathroom at the last possible moments before disaster. She was determined to at least get to her teenage years before she had to get back to having a regular schedule.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A knock at the door almost threw her out of her chair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Abigail? It’s jus’ me!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The voice she recognized as Jazz threw her off. She wasn’t even to the part where she met him yet- she was only to the memories of aged ten! She certainly didn’t want a repeat of what happened at the coffee shop.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m, uh- I’m indecent!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The voice behind the door laughed. “Ya’re not the best at lying, little one. Jus’ open the door. I wanna talk.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Abigail had never heard words that made her stomach knot so intensely. It was like she was playing a part of someone she didn’t know. A stranger. A stranger who she only really knew up until fifth grade. You’re barely even a full person at that age.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She finally decided to just open the door. She was greeted with an all too familiar grin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There she is!” Jazz said in a sing-song voice, making his way inside. “I was jus’ worried about ya. Ya’ve not been actin’ like yourself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Abigail couldn’t help but feel some sort of comfort in his presence. He was dripping with confidence, swagger, but he seemed genuine in that way. She almost didn’t hear what he was saying to her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She just shrugged as she watched him make himself at home on her couch. “I guess I’ve just been feeling overwhelmed lately. Don’t know my right from my left, you know?” She forced a small laugh before she straightened her posture. “Would you like something to drink?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jazz slowly lowered his shades to squint at her. “Are you sure you’re my Abby?” he asked her slowly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Abigail froze. Sure, he never ordered anything at the coffee shop, but surely this man drank or ate at some points during the day? Right? How was this not proper hostess etiquette?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe we need a trip to see Ratchet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A sudden realization hit her like- well, a car, and she knew what that felt like.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ratchet. Jazz. She knew of those names. Those were the names of those Transformer guys her nieces and nephews watched on TV. She was certain she’d also seen the movies of them, though only the first two or three were worth watching. Alien robots that transform into cars that work with the American government, of all governments to work with.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She almost couldn’t believe it. Nothing was mentioned in the book in the first ten years and last two pages about these guys. How did she even know them? Weren’t they supposed to be a secret or something?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Abigail, breathe!” Jazz was at her side before she knew it. He held her by her shoulders, directing her to breathe in and out deeply. “I didn’t think you were that scared of ol’ Ratch. He’s not so bad. You an’ him get along.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think I can do this,” she whispered, closing her eyes. Maybe this wasn’t some miracle. It was too complicated. How was she expected to learn this entire new life instead of enjoying the simple fact that she was given another chance? She was now expected, at least in her mind, to act like somebody she wasn’t. Sure, her name was the same, she looked fairly similar, but that was it. She had a whole new family tree, memories, no siblings, friends she didn’t even know.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And to top it all off, in this new life, she was friends with alien robots that she barely knew by name.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, sweetspark, you can,” Jazz told her, pulling her into his chest. “What’s on your mind? What can I do to help you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Abigail found herself unable to even tell him what she wanted to tell him. She was freaking out, but something told her that it would be even worse if not for him being there with her. She had taken all of this new information in stride with little thought of how she was actually going to get through this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who am I, Jazz?” she mumbled against him. “I don’t even know anymore.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jazz rubbed circles into her back for a few minutes, letting her do whatever emotional thing she needed to do. When she had calmed down enough for his liking, he began to lead her back outside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on. I’m taking you to Ratchet.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Jazz. Ratchet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Those were just two of the many Transformers that Abigail’s nieces and nephews loved so dearly. As much as she tried, she was never able to really get into that type of cinema. In her mind, it was all just toys that kids liked so the adults decided to profit more and make movies and comics and television shows.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t that she hated them, not at all like that. She had seen the movies, watched a few shows with her siblings’ kids, but she was not at all invested like she saw so many. That in mind, she never thought to study them or even really know them all by name. She barely knew who Jazz was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And apparently, they were not only acquaintances, but friends. It was a lot to take in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Somethin’s wrong with your head,” Jazz mumbled to himself. They were already on the road. Abigail couldn’t remember how she even got into the car. She did remember that it was a beautiful car. If there was something the creators all got right, it was vehicle design. You’d be a fool to say otherwise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She did recall something about Bumblebee being a Camaro that riled some people up. Maybe that was alright to criticize</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My head?” Abigail finally asked, leaning her head back against the headrest. She closed her eyes. “Might not wanna go in there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jazz didn’t even look at her. His playful demeanor had vanished, and Abby couldn’t tell if he was worried or upset with her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She let out a soft sigh. It had only been a few days playing this new ‘Abigail Parker’. This was more stress than she ever thought it would be. She didn’t even sign up for this. Who thought this ‘new life’ program was a good idea? Abigail was no Karen, but she needed to speak to someone’s manager.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh, God. She was probably going to cross paths with the big guy, Optimus Prime. Was she that close to these guys? Did she already have some sort of relationship with him?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If only Jazz had given her more time to read that damn book.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ya haven’t contacted us, you’ve been distant,” he rambled on, mostly to himself and not directed at Abigail. “Ratchet will figure out what’s wrong.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Abigail didn’t say anything this time. She was a ball of nerves. She wasn’t sure if this whole ‘reborn’ situation was supposed to be a secret or if she was allowed to tell anyone. Surely, they didn’t expect her to keep such a big secret all to herself. Imagine living an entire new lifetime like that. It’s one thing to try to blend in with the new world around you, it’s another to virtually lie to every person you meet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It seemed her cover was going to be blown sooner rather than later.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a short drive to what she could only assume was the Autobot base. Security was tight, though Jazz was let through without a second thought. Once inside the compound, it was still a ways until they reached what had to be the biggest building she’d ever encountered in both of her lifetimes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t skyscraper tall, but it must have spanned over hundreds of acres inside. She would have gaped if she hadn’t been in the situation she was in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jazz helped her out of his vehicle mode as soon as they were inside one of the hangars. She gasped when his human form disappeared, and his ‘car’ slowly transformed into a bipedal being.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Seeing these guys on TV was nothing like seeing them in real life. They were just massive, or at least he was. She was almost scared to even see the others. Something told her that Jazz was by far not the biggest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jazz heaved a sigh, shaking his head. “Oh, Abs.” He lowered himself to almost her eye-level and placed his hand on the floor palm up. “Come on.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Abigail counted her inhale and exhale. Something inside her told her that it was safe, and that voice was louder than the one telling her to run. Running would do no good. His stride was one to her thirty.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He held her close to his chest as he walked through the hangar. The hallways were almost as big as the rooms, and she quickly lost all sense of direction. They passed a few others like him, Autobots as she recalled, but she didn’t recognize them in  the slightest. To be honest, she didn’t recognize Jazz by his looks- only by his name.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ratchet, somethin’s wrong with Abigail. Somethin’s wrong with her head, she’s been actin’ weird lately.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Abigail didn’t even realize when they had gotten to this new room. It was filled from top to bottom with monitors, control panels, and large metal tables. It smelled like absolutely nothing, which was probably the most unsettling thing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Acting weird?” A large red robot approached them. He was larger than Jazz by a handful of feet, she guessed. “Abigail, do you know where you are?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh…” She took a deep breath, racking her brain for what the name was. Autobot base? Something about birds? NEST?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He made a ‘tsk’ sound. “Do you know my name?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He just called you ‘Ratchet’, so I’m going to guess that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Her short-term memory seems fine,” the robot said, bringing a small bright light up to her eyes. “Pupil dilation is normal. What are your symptoms?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took her a few seconds to realize that was directed towards her. What was she supposed to say? Just that she suddenly can’t remember anything past a few days ago? That she had a whole other life that has been switched to this one? Which one sounded more believable?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I must’ve hit my head,” she finally said, trying not to look directly at either one of them. “Everything’s all foggy, even you guys.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She offered me a drink,” Jazz said, as if the implication of him having a beverage was absolutely ludicrous. “In my holoform.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Holoform? That must be what their human forms are called. That thing that disappeared.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is the last thing you remember fully, Abigail?” Ratchet asked her carefully. He ignored Jazz’s statement.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Three days ago, waking up in my room,” she told him. “All I knew was that I had to get to work. Even then, it was like relying on muscle memory to even get there and know what to do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is strange,” he said, turning his back on them. “Are you sure there’s nothing else?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She thought of mentioning the book, but quickly decided against it. She didn’t want to put herself into any more trouble, in this life or after.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A CT scan would be pointless with nothing to compare it to,” Ratchet mumbled, typing something against the gigantic monitor. “You have no external injuries, I see nothing worthy of concern from that standpoint. However, on that note, I would like you to stay on this base for the time being for monitoring.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stay here?” She hoped she didn’t sound as scared as she felt. It was a familiar place, but she felt so lost there as well. She didn’t know anybody except for Jazz, and even that was a stretch. Who knew who else ‘knew’ her but she didn’t know them? What was she supposed to say?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jazz, I’m taking you off the schedule so you can aid me in monitoring her. Keep an eye on her, see if you can help her remember anything. Soldier?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, sir,” Jazz told him, his accent gone for only a second.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Abigail slowly looked up at Jazz. She was no longer in his hand, but sitting cross-legged on one of the large metal tables obviously not made for those of her size. He returned her gaze, though it was hard to tell what he was thinking with the bright blue visor over his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Were they eyes? Was there better terminology for that?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How did I ever meet you guys?” she asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ratchet chuckled and shook his head. “That’s a question for Jazz to answer. Now move along, Ironhide’s almost done with the new recruits and I’m expecting a full bay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on, Abs, let’s get outta here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Jazz reached down for her, Abigail didn’t hesitate to climb into his palm this time. Something about him was just warm, familiar, comforting. He was the most comforting person she’d met so far in this life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would you prefer to walk?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’d prefer to fly, if I’m being honest, but this is close enough.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He laughed. “There she is. Let’s go find something interesting to do, and I’ll tell you how we met. It’s quite the story.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Abigail internally hoped that it was more interesting than reading that damned book, and something told her it would be.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“So… How did we meet?”</p><p>Jazz took a deep, dramatic breath. “Ah guess I’ll have to start from the beginnin’, huh? Here goes.”</p><p>Abigail and Jazz were sitting together outside the base on a wooden bench. He, of course, was in his holoform- something Abby appreciated. Their larger forms would take some getting used to. Seeing his car mode just yards away from them made her feel a little weird, but she could get used to it. Hopefully.</p><p>Truth be told, Jazz was quite the storyteller. He began the ‘Tale of Abigail’, as he called it, with much enthusiasm. She couldn’t get her eyes off of him as he spoke.</p><p>It all began when Abigail had just turned twenty-one. She was two semesters away from graduating with a degree in something, a minor in something else. Those details weren’t so important to him.</p><p>The first week in June of that year, Abigail had some sort of crisis. She began to have thoughts of ‘what if this isn’t right?’ and ‘is this really what I want to do for the rest of my life? How can I know at this age what I want to do until I retire?’. Thoughts like that plagued her mind, as Jazz stated. He spoke about her as if he was speaking about someone else, using ‘her’ and ‘Abigail’ instead of ‘you’.</p><p>Oh, how right that was.</p><p>“Abigail told me how she laid awake at night, just wonderin’ what her life was going to be if she were to continue on that path- the path that was always expected of her.”</p><p>Abigail shifted closer to him as he continued.</p><p>He always emphasized how lost in those thoughts she was, how it was beginning to consume her daily life. By July, only a month later, Abigail had decided to leave the university she had been attending. She had no plan, which was so unlike her life thus far, but that was what she wanted.</p><p>“If life was going to be unexpected anyway, why not have a little fun? That’s what she told me.”</p><p>Abigail had chosen to also break her lease at her apartment near the school. It wasn’t the best financial choice, but she figured that she was already in debt from university anyway. Why not add a couple thousand to that as well?</p><p>She sold her new car for a used one, packed up all things that she held dear to her in that used car, and began the drive to the east coast.</p><p>“Abs was scared to death, but she always said she knew she could do it anyway.”</p><p>So far, Abigail couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Her ‘new’, or old, self was so unlike how she normally acted. She recalled finishing college and going on to graduate school and gaining her masters in her field. She remembered landing that perfect job, one that brought her joy and just the right amount of stress. Her job was so important to her, friends and family were put on the back burner for a while. She had been so proud of her success.</p><p>How could this new her have thrown that all away?</p><p>“Abster took her sweet time on the way here, stopping at local parks far from the interstates and highways. Enjoyin’ life to it’s fullest in a way she said she never experienced before.”</p><p>As he spoke, Abigail could almost smell those summer flowers he mentioned over and over. The smell of fresh cut grass, the dirt after a light rain, just nature. She never paid much attention to those before.</p><p>“On one of her park jaunts, she stumbled upon something of ours.”</p><p>Abigail frowned, pulling herself out of her daze of nature and smells. “Something of yours?”</p><p>“You weren’t sure at the time what it was, but you took it as a memento from that very park,” he told her. “If not for that small item, we would have never crossed paths like we did.”</p><p>“What was it that I took?”</p><p>He laughed. “That is a whole other story. Long story short, it was a piece of something we had thought we lost years ago. It had somehow made its way to that park, and to you, in time.”</p><p>“The AllSpark,” Abigail mumbled.</p><p>“Yes!” Jazz almost jumped up, grinning at her. “Do ya remember?”</p><p>“I, uh, I think so…” Abigail couldn’t help but tense. That was not the right time to be guessing on her Transformers knowledge. Did she know what the AllSpark was before?</p><p>“You tucked it in your purse and continued on, eventually landing a few towns over from where you live now,” Jazz continued, a bit more upbeat, if that was even possible.</p><p>Abigail had somehow found a cheap apartment and a steady job within days. It was pure luck- not that she was the least popular applicant, but most jobs nowadays expect degrees, experience. Not a college dropout with little job experience in any field at all.</p><p>It just felt so unlike her to have done all these things. Would she have been able to do it, given a second chance in her own life? She doubted she could.</p><p>“Ya were happy, which was most important to ya at the time. Ya felt free, even with all that schooling debt hanging on behind ya. Ya knew you weren’t alone.”</p><p>His tone shifted.</p><p>“And ya weren’t alone. Due to your travels, it was difficult to trace the AllSpark’s energy with the limited resources we had on our base. We knew it was on the move, but we couldn’t get a grip on it. Unlike the Decepticons.”</p><p>Abigail remembered what it felt like to be followed. It hadn’t happened often to her in her old life, but it felt so real now. She imagined herself in those shoes, almost like a sixth sense. She had been followed by the Decepticons for days, nights, it was such an uneasy feeling.</p><p>And she felt it.</p><p>“They caught on faster than we were able to. We couldn’t get their exact locations on our scanners, but we could tell they were nearby. Too close to be comfortable. We sent scouts, Mirage and Bluestreak, to make sure nothing fishy was goin’ on. We didn’t like what we found.”</p><p>Somehow, the Decepticons had figured out holoform technology a year ahead of the Autobots with even less resources. They had used them to their advantage, attempting to lure Abigail in somehow. Fortunately, she was more savvy than they expected, and knew not to trust men that she had a feeling were stalking her.</p><p>“When they followed you on your explorations of the new world around you, we followed them. It was too easy for them to track your exact location, you had all but forgotten the sliver in your purse.”</p><p>Abigail could almost picture the scene in her head. The park was unclear, but it was obvious she now had three vehicles following her. There were four, but one of them in particular was good at disguising himself. Mirage.</p><p>She almost lost herself in his words as he described the ‘battle’ that took place. It was more like a scuffle, though she didn’t know how she knew that.</p><p>“Ya got blasted in the crossfire somehow, even though ya were running as fast as ya could away from the ‘giant alien robots’, as ya had said.”</p><p>“I got hit?”</p><p>“Ah believe the term ‘grazed’ was how Blue described it. Ya were holdin’ the sliver in your hand, almost like a good luck charm, and it protected ya from what could’ve been a bad situation.”</p><p>Jazz sighed. “Primus was lookin’ out for ya. The damage was done, the ‘Cons fled, and Bluestreak and Mirage brought you back to base for examination. It was the gentlest I’d ever seen the Doc Bot treat a patient. Ya stayed under our protection against your wishes for two weeks, an’ we settled on relocatin’ ya closer to our base to make sure the ‘Cons didn’t try another round.”</p><p>“So that explains how I met you guys as a whole,” Abigail said slowly. “Ratchet, Bluestreak, and Mirage. How did we meet?”</p><p>He cleared his throat. “Ah was unaware of your arrival. Thus, I made my merry way to the medbay to meet with Ratchet about a systems update and I- I, uh..”</p><p>Abigail squinted at him. “You what? Hm?”</p><p>“I might have almost completely squished ya under my aft.”</p><p>“You<em> what?”</em></p><p>“Not all tha way!” Jazz told her quickly. “Ah realized before it was too late! Made for a memorable first meetin’, huh?”</p><p>She so wished she remembered that moment.</p><p>“Ya told me that ah’d have to make up for almost killin’ ya with my aft, and I did, like a gentlemech,” he stated proudly. “Drives, spark-to-heart conversations, the whole bit. Ya took quite a likin’ to me, if ah do say so myself.”</p><p>“You certainly seem confident,” she said with a small laugh. “I can see why I liked you.”</p><p>The remainder of the day seemed to go by in a blur. Jazz answered any and all questions Abigail had with that signature smile that made her heart warm. She didn’t want the day to end. It was starting to make her like this new life. It was so different from what she had before.</p><p>Before, she always did what she loved, but more so what she thought was expected of her. Good grades, going to the good school, saving money, good credit score, reasonable friends that didn’t have a shadow of a criminal record. It was what many would call perfect.</p><p>This new life, was a life she would have looked down upon. Quitting college two semesters away from a degree? Moving cross-country all alone, with no job lined up or place to stay? It would have made her sick to think of this life. So many uncertainties.</p><p>Abigail got her own room that night, the same room she had stayed when she first met the Autobots three years ago.</p><p>Almost as soon as she shut her eyes, she could see the very scenes Jazz described play out in her head. She reached out for the sliver of the AllSpark. The flowers were sweet. The ground was hard, but damp. Abigail could feel the sun on her face, and feel her cheeks start to burn from smiling so widely.</p><p>Maybe spontaneity wasn’t as bad as she thought.</p>
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